Sgt. Pepper Lonely Hearts Club ...

Yeah yeah - that's the name of the number one rock album of all time as mentioned by the Rolling Stones magazine. The first time the Beatles came out with their creative best as a unit. The first time they tried doing something under a nom-de-plume - to NOT be Beatles the performers - but Beatles the next door artists.

Given the debacle i put myself into after the previous write-up, where everybody (except the one intended for) started questioning the mystery shrouding the post, like the Beatles posing as the Sgt. Peppers Club, i decided to clear up some air.

No, this has nothing to do with Hyderabad or Nashik or any other city in the country. And no, this was not the usual pre V-day blues either. I don't suppose you need to have a V-day in order to tell somebody you love them or like them or miss them and on and on. Don't we keep doing that pretty much every day of the year anyways.

(PS - don't brand me a "Tu hi tu Bajrangi Re" for having something against Valentine - beautiful post - must read - especially the "Kya ek ladka aur ladki ..." dialogue from Maine pyaar kiya - suddenly reminds of a "couple" of people i know - in a good way obviously - who am i to presume things and get into the trouble of writing apologies)

To cater to a second niche group that was much interested in the time of the post; well crowds generally pysche me more than being alone. Its all a state of mind rather than the physical being. Ok ok, no more Freudian fart.

Take for example tonight. It truly was a blast. Old happy memories revisited. Rib tickling laughter entwined with Toxic Ninja overdose. On one side you had the eternal chatterboxes, and on the other the GD experts, who like to come in at strategic points, hit a bouncer for a six, and then move back into their shell.

I was in the mood for writing the contents of the previous post for a long time now, but just never found the opportune moment. A few lines "close to my heart".

Come to think of it - do i need to justify what i write or on whom i write. NO i don't.
Read at your leisure, if you will. Appreciate at your leisure, if you will. Scathe at your leisure, if you will.

The keyboard is simply a medium for aerated ideas. Thoughts fizz through ...

What i have realized though over time is - you can be as lonely as you want to be in a crowd, or enjoy the company of good memories locked up by yourself. Its all how you perceive the moment. You could laugh away in front of everybody but still be aloof. Or you could have that pleasant and relaxingly quiet glow that says it all.

I recall a very old story i read by Earl Reed Silvers; the thoughts which i try and capture here in my own poetic essence:

Do you remember, dear, the days so long ago;
the school lab, where over messy experiments, each other we grew to know.
Do you remember, dear, you had just moved to town;
I was a poor dressmaker's son, but you wore a tiara and a gown.

Do you remember, dear, my waking thoughts were mostly of you;
you took me into your crowd, though friends i had so few.
Do you remember, dear, the night i took you to the dance;
and while we danced the last waltz, i confessed my love at this only chance.

Do you remember, dear, the specks of gold in your eyes;
and all the efforts to keep it a secret, with those small true lies.
Do you remember, dear, when society became so disapproving of us;
you took the path to college on the very next bus.

Do you remember, dear, what i whispered to you that day;
that in years to come you must follow what your heart would say.
Do you remember, dear, i asked you to win over your fears;
I kissed you, and you smiled at me through your tears.

Do you remember, dear, those letters of mine you never got;
the ones your mother, seeing you reading, had from then on caught.
Do you remember, dear, your replies to mine were always so short and few;
One week followed another, and i had only my memories of you.

Do you remember, dear, that i worked hard to earn a living of mine;
and through hardships and savings, it all worked out fine.
Do you remember, dear, the years that have gone by, 31 in all;
and we celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary this fall.

Do you remember, dear, that soon after you had college left;
chance it was, that in the corner of an unknown street we again met.
Do you remember, dear, the golden specks were in your eyes again;
reminiscent of that old night you left, us standing a final time in the rain.

Do you remember, dear, standing there in the middle of the street;
those strange words i again began to repeat;
Do you remember, dear, if in years to come i ever walk in through that door ...
forgetting the tears in both our eyes, you kissed me like never before !!!